


That Little Space for All the Stars

by Truetomorrow



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Because it should be, Doesn't come up but HC Credence Goldstein, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Happy Credence Barebone, He's probably a writer or something but it isn't important. He's definitely an adult tho, M/M, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Teacher Percival Graves, adult Credence, blink (a few times) and you'll miss them, but still there, credence is a little shit and we love him for it, is abuse of commas a tag, marked T because there are brief mentions of Daddy kink, seriously just some fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28465557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truetomorrow/pseuds/Truetomorrow
Summary: Percival has a little too much fun on a night out for his department's team-building event and wakes up the next morning to find security had called in his son to pick him up. But Percival doesn't have a son -- what hedoeshave is a huge crush on his best friend who also happens to be his coworker's brother.
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	That Little Space for All the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Well heya. It's been a minute. Pretty sure I've been working on this for at LEAST a year now even though it was only ever going to be a light little fluffy thing.... I just couldn't seem to get myself in gear to write it. Wonder why. Please enjoy this simple offering.
> 
> Title is from one of my favorite books, _A House Like a Lotus_ , from which I also drew the opening line.
> 
> “The cold place within me that had frozen and constricted my heart was gone. My heart was like a lotus, and in that little space there was room enough... For all the stars in all of the galaxies. For all those bubbles which were island universes.”  
> ― Madeleine L'Engle, _A House Like a Lotus_

It’s common knowledge that no good phone calls come after 2am so when Credence’s phone rings at 2:30 in the morning, he hesitates to answer it. Finally, the song breaks him down and he clears his throat before swiping to take the call.

Tina, who has just arrived home from the department team-building event pokes her head around the doorframe. Her hair is damp from her shower and droplets fall onto her robe; she looks worriedly at Credence’s barely-breathing form. He knows she has an early class to teach and needs to be up in a few hours, but he can’t feel guilty that he’s glad she’s here with him, now. Just in case.

Fingers tight, and eyes wide with anxiety as he listens to the tinny voice on the other end, he responds, “yes, yes I do.” Tina takes a step closer, hovering uncertainly.

As the other person speaks, Credence’s eyes widen even further, and he locks eyes with Tina, hand loosening its death-grip on the phone as the tension drains from his face. “Thank you, yes. I’ll leave now.”

Before he ends the call, Credence covers his mouth to hide the laughter that bursts free as soon as he sets the phone back down on his desk. Tina blinks owlishly as Credence wipes the tears from his eyes, shaking his head as he gets up and starts throwing clothes on.

“Oh, you’re never going to believe this one…”

~

Percival wakes to a pounding sound somewhere, and groggily burrows deeper into the covers. “Mr. Graves! Open up, sir.” He groans and ignores the shouting. “Sir, your son is here for you. We’re letting him in.”

Percival shoots up in bed. Or at least he tries to. His what? He’s still too groggy — hung-over — his brain offers helpfully, to untangle himself from the blankets before the door whirs and clicks open. Mouth hanging slightly open, parted to argue, although he can’t remember what he was going to say, all he can do is stare. Credence stands in the doorway, grinning widely as he tosses an item back and forth between his hands. As discombobulated as Percival is, he recognizes the gesture as Credence’s way of showing how gleeful he is. Percival closes his mouth with a snap and a soft groan as even that movement makes his head ache.

Before the door closes behind him, Credence tosses whatever he was holding towards the bed. It lands with a muted thump and Percival fumbles in the blankets to locate it. A bottle of water. Suspiciously — though still greedily — he cracks it open and chugs a few mouthfuls. Relief.

Smiling softly, Credence latches the lock and leans against the hotel door. His hair is tousled and there’s a grin on his face that makes Percival want to kiss it away. 

“Well, good morning, dad.” Credence’s grin grows as Percival groans and flops back into the bed.

He hears Credence shuffling around the space as he attempts to burrow into his pillow, but when he glances at his watch and sees it’s only 5:30 in the morning, he manages to get properly situated back under the covers. “Shut up. Just… come to bed.”

Credence has made his way over to the bed now, and Percival can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, “sharing a bed, daddy?”

Grateful for the pillow that hides his blush, he snarks back, “it’s not even 6 in the morning. I’m… I’m not even sure how you got here, or what happened for them to call you, but I for one haven’t had much sleep, and—“ but Credence shushes him, tugging the covers loose on the other side of the bed. The mattress barely even registers the movement of Credence slipping under the blanket and it’s large enough to comfortably fit four people; yet Percival feels every motion and shift, hears every minute slide of skin and fabric as if it’s being broadcasted right to his brain. It’s the hangover, he assures himself. He’s extra sensitive to noises in this state. Heart racing from dehydration. Or too much alcohol. Not enough sleep. Any and all of the above. 

Credence takes his time making himself comfortable, and Percival feels his eyelids drooping as he argues with himself silently. His breathing starts to settle and the flush finally begins to fade from his cheeks.

They lie together in silence until Percival, who hadn’t been lying about his exhaustion, is just on the verge of falling back asleep when Credence whispers, “I’m your emergency contact.”

His voice is thick with an emotion Percival isn’t nearly awake enough to decipher, but it’s enough to get him to roll over until he’s on his back, head facing the younger man.

Blinking blearily, he lifts up an arm in invitation and Credence quickly slips in to curl up against his side. Pressing a soft kiss to Credence’s neck, he gives a gruff, “go to sleep.” Credence tenses in surprise at the press of lips against his skin before slowly resting his head against the top of Percival’s head, letting an arm drape over his waist. Percival is asleep again within seconds, nose tucked into the crook of Credence’s neck just over his collar.

Credence is lulled to sleep by the soft, steady breaths and warmth of the man next to him.

~

When Percival wakes again, there is an elbow in his face.

Disgruntled by the indignity, he blinks his eyes open fully and slants his eyes towards Credence and finds the younger man slyly looking back. He doesn’t move but he narrows his eyes even more, and Credence grins as he keeps his own position.

“Well, good morning…”

“Don’t you da—“ Percival’s voice is rough with sleep and dry hotel air. 

“I ordered us some coffee, dad.” Percival groans in what is absolutely annoyance, but Credence finally moves off of him and when he glances towards the balcony, there is a small round table set for two. He lets his eyes drift over the scene, focusing on the details of what he can see of the breakfast laid out. Specifically, he notes the large pitcher of coffee and weighs his need for coffee with his reluctance to discuss last night with Credence.

Amazingly, he doesn’t feel as hung over as he probably should — though if he were more miserable, Credence might cut him a little slack. He considers his options but, without knowing exactly what led to Credence’s presence, he isn’t sure how much he deserves the ribbing. With a deep breath, Percival decides the coffee wins and he closes his eyes in an attempt to get some focus. On a sigh, he finally looks at Credence.

Pillowing his head on folded arms, looking like the cat who caught the canary, Credence watches the wheels turning in Percival’s head. The table is set. One of the chairs already askew. Room service has been ordered and delivered. He squints, glancing again at the table, where one cup of coffee sits cooling in the breeze. Percival can still see the faintest wisp of steam from the cup. Credence’s grin widens as Percival flicks lightly at one of Credence’s elbows — honestly unconcerned if it’s even the offending appendage.

Then, tossing the blanket over what he can manage of Credence’s form when he moves to get up, Percival rubs at his nose. His sore nose. “Do you ever sleep?”

The covers let out a laugh and Percival heads to the small bathroom in an attempt to make himself more ready for this conversation, and returns a few minutes later wearing a surprisingly comfortable hotel robe before Credence finally emerges, flushed with hair mussed from the blanket, when he hears Percival shuffle back in.

“I only needed a nap, really. Had a few hours to sleep on the train, after all.” He easily slips into what was obviously his abandoned chair and pours Percival a fresh cup of steaming coffee, refreshing his own half-consumed cup. Percival takes the other chair, almost forgiving him for the elbow in the face when Credence passes over his mug. The coffee is warm, fragrant, and caffeinated.

He sips deeply and sighs, savoring the drink.

“So…” Credence is obviously unsure how to broach the topic and Percival ignores the comment, picking up a muffin curiously, as though he had never seen one before. Credence rolls his eyes so hard Percival picks it up in his periphery, as focused on the muffin as he tries to be. Frowning, Percival puts the muffin back down and considers the platter a moment before he picks up a scone. 

Credence actually scoffs.

“Percival.” Percival lifts his eyebrows, meeting Credence’s focused gaze a moment later as he takes a bite of the scone. It really is good. “Percival, what do you remember from last night?”

He nearly chokes on the food in his mouth, but takes another swig of coffee to consider the question. It’s not what he’d been expecting. He’s relieved, and yet… What did he remember from the night before — it should be simple enough. Percival wracks his brain. 

“Ah… There was… I remember Tina leaving.” Credence’s eyebrows shoot up.

“That must have been around 11pm. I got a call at 2:30am, and she was already home and nearly ready for bed. Surely there’s something else?” Percival winces, deciding he deserves more than a sore nose for that.

“I’m sorry that it woke you. I’m not… I mean, I’m not in a hospital... I don’t know why they would have called anyone to come get me.” He knows he sounds unsure, but the gaps in his memory of the night before, as well as guilt over dragging Credence out of bed, again make him hesitant to respond as he normally might.

Credence sips his own coffee and studies Percival’s face before turning his head to look out over the ocean. “It didn’t wake me…” he mumbles it, but Percival has put in years of dedicated study to Credence’s communication style. With a sudden shift, Credence’s eyes lock on to Percival’s. “I’m your emergency contact.”

Faint memories of Credence saying that same thing this morning rush over him, but now he can see the emotions running across the younger man’s face. Percival flushes and glances away, picking at his forgotten scone.

“I didn’t tell them you were my son.” He glances up between his lashes to gauge Credence’s reaction; Credence remains surprisingly stoic and Percival shifts uncomfortably, flushing further. “It’s… If… If anything were to happen to me, I…” Percival takes a swig of his cooling coffee and quickly sets the cup down again. “I trust you, Credence. If anything were to happen to me, I wanted you to be the person I woke up next to— that is—!” But Credence’s eyes have gone misty, even as his lips curve up in amusement. 

“Percy.”

Reaching out his hand, Percival lets out a deep breath when Credence places his own within Percival’s grip. Looking away from Credence’s face, Percival studies the back of the hand he holds — he can feel the faint scarring that runs unevenly across the palm. Besides that, Credence’s skin is relatively smooth; the skin pale but firm, his nails short and neat — Percival finds himself smiling absently at that hand and clears his throat. 

“I should have talked to you, first, but I’m not exactly in a dangerous field. I didn’t think the annual department team building trip would create any trouble. In fact… why did they call you? I remember Tina leaving, but the rest of the evening is such a blur I only remember bits and pieces.”

Credence’s hand is still tucked into Percival’s and the contact is comforting. Thrilling. He slowly slides his thumb over Credence’s skin — it’s a mindless action, yet his whole being is focused on that point of contact. He keeps his eyes on Credence’s face. “What happened?”

Credence blinks a few times before focusing back on Percival. “Oh, right.” His cheeks are slightly flushed, but he remains exactly where he is as he tilts his head to the side and allows a grin to spread over his face. “Depends. Are you ready for this?”

“Oh god.” Percival’s fingers falter for a moment before he returns to the steady stroke of his thumb, moving it slightly higher now so it runs over the smooth skin of Credence’s wrist. Credence’s hand twitches slightly, but he relaxes it again and leaves it against Percival’s. “Okay, go ahead.”

“First,” Percival winces, “you placed an order for 100 hamburgers—“ Percival stops breathing for a second, eyes wide in horror “—then when the restaurant informed you they had closed for the night…” Percival closes his eyes now. Slightly hazy memories are starting to float up and he groans. 

“I went to the pool.” Credence coughs slightly and Percival opens his eyes to glare at the laugh threatening to escape the younger man.

“You made your way to the pool, while you quite loudly quoted a Shakespearean monologue — the guard wasn’t sure which play. The hotel staff had called security to keep an eye on you,” Percival groans in embarrassment, “and when the guard located you by the pool, you were—“ Credence clears his throat and Percival buries his face in his free hand. Credences squeezes Percival’s hand in support even as he struggles to hold back his laughter. “When he found you, you were giving Romeo's soliloquy to Juliet — that one he recognized — to a—” here, Credence’s voice nearly squeaks with barely suppressed laughter, “to a pool noodle. Apparently it was very good. By the time the guard reached you, however, you were attempting to give CPR to a lounge chair and had gotten all tangled up in the slats.”

Percival is making a noise of distress he didn’t even know he could make, but when he tries to pull his hand back to better bury his face, Credence clasps on, refusing to let him go. With a loud clatter Credence drags his chair so he can face Percival without the table in the way. Elbows resting on his knees, Credence holds Percival's hand between two of his own, now, chafing the skin gently for comfort.

It does rather the opposite. 

“They brought you back in and that’s when they called me. You kept asking for ‘my boy’ and when you gave them your emergency contact info, they thought I must be your son. I knew you had already reserved a room and, since you weren’t seen to be a danger to yourself or others, asked them to get you to your room and I left immediately.”

Percival is certain his face is on fire. Spontaneous combustion. There’s no other explanation for the heat pouring off of it at this moment. “I’m… never drinking again.” Credence laughs and Percival shivers to feel the heat puff over his hand, still clasped between Credence’s. He goes back over what Credence has told him. Faint memories rise up, but… “You didn’t correct them? Not that it matters, of course. I’m glad you came, but I do remember them announcing my son had arrived…”

With a small smile Credence presses a soft kiss to Percival’s knuckles, and Percival’s heart stutters. “You needed me.” 

Percival shakes his head, finally releasing his face so he can look Credence in the eyes again. “Need. I will always need you.” He watches the flush steal over Credence’s face in wonder. “Credence…”

He isn’t sure what he’d meant to say, and in the end it doesn't matter because Credence leans forward, brown eyes so earnest as he gazes at Percival, hesitating only briefly before brushing his lips against Percival’s. Before he can move away, Percival reaches out to cup Credence’s jaw with his free hand, stroking the soft skin. Glad he’d thought to brush his teeth at least, Percival scoots closer to Credence. He’s on the edge of his seat.

The feeling of Credence’s lips moving against his is better than he had ever imagined, and he sighs softly as Credence releases Percival’s hand to press both palms against his face, thumbs stroking over the rough bristles — he shivers slightly and Percival moves to rest his now free hand to press against Credence’s heart to feel the racing beat that matches his own.

Credence is flushed and smiling. Tilting his head slightly to the side he nuzzles into one of Percival’s palms. “You’re my emergency contact, too. I don’t want to wake up with anyone else beside me but you.”

And what can Percival do but lean in for another kiss. Or twelve.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to writingrambler who looked over the first draft and realized SOMEONE had forgotten to add any kissing. Y'all. Here's to 2021, may there be ALL of the kisses. Until then, here's some soft kisses with these two dorks.
> 
> Don't forget to like, comment, and subscribe ;D
> 
> Happy new year to all of you! My birthday's coming up in 2 weeks and I hope to have another something to post that will be significantly more self-indulgently smutty but uh. We'll see. Be well <3


End file.
